


alternative methods

by Solovei



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Blue Lily Lily Blue Spoilers, But you don't really need to see it to read the fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Ronan Lynch is a Good Boyfriend, The Dream Thieves Spoilers, They're watching Mad Max Fury Road
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 01:03:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7412305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solovei/pseuds/Solovei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The care and maintenance of Adam Parrish</p>
            </blockquote>





	alternative methods

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to [rachelisce](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rachelisce/pseuds/rachelisce) for beta-reading and feeding my plot bunnies :)

The door of Adam’s apartment thumped open. He knew who it was without looking up from his homework - it could only be one person. This was not in itself unusual; Ronan invited himself in as he pleased, and there have been times when Adam woke up in the morning to find him laying on the floor beside his mattress, wandering in and out of sleep, waiting for permission. 

“Parrish.” He announced. 

As he replied, “Lynch”, it was hard to hide his smile, as much as he wanted to.

No, the unusual thing was that Ronan was carrying two things in his hands: his laptop, black like everything else he owned, and a small plastic case. He strode forward, shoved the latter at Adam’s chest, and sat up against the wall on the makeshift bed, flipping open his computer.

\---

Adam hadn’t dated much, and he wasn’t entirely sure that what he and Ronan had could be considered dating. Could words like that even be applied to people like them? The definitions had always seemed blurry to him, more so given everything that happened over the last year. Maybe they just slid further along the same gradient.

Right now, Adam Parrish knew three things:

  1. He should probably be reviewing chemistry formulas for the midterm tomorrow and not watching this post-apocalyptic film about exploding cars.
  2. He could feel the rise and fall of Ronan’s ribcage against his stomach, slow and calm, in a way he knew was somehow just for him.
  3. He was willing to give up one of those things for the other.



The movie wasn’t actually that bad. There was, yes, enough stuff blowing up to keep Ronan mesmerized for two hours, but in the few moments when things weren’t on fire, there was some clever visual storytelling, Adam thought. And at least the explosions were well-shot. 

He found himself relaxing, allowing himself, just for a short while, to enjoy the moment. After all, hadn’t he earned this? Maybe just once he could spend a couple of hours with his boyfriend, not thinking about his next paycheck. Just once. Let him have his. Adam sighed contentedly, leaning back against the wall and running an idle hand across Ronan’s scalp. 

“Let me guess, Gansey didn’t let you watch this at Monmouth?” He asked, a smirk in his voice but not his face. 

“I think the R rating was too scary for him,” Ronan replied, not lifting his gaze from the screen. 

Adam chuckled, trying to imagine Gansey interacting with any sort of pop culture. “Did he say the moving pictures will steal your soul or something like that?” 

“Something like that, yeah.” 

\---

“That is my child! My PROPERTY!” The white-haired man exclaimed on the screen, and from the laptop speakers those words wormed their way into Adam’s heart. 

He blinked, and felt wetness on his cheeks. Everything felt far away, as if his body wasn’t sure where all of its parts had gone It may not have been those exact words but it didn’t matter. Their various permutations, shouted at his face and bruised into his flesh, took hold many years ago. 

Because Adam was property, too. Even after the trial he would look over his shoulder from time to time to make sure he wasn’t followed; his father had tracked him down once, he could do it again. He was stupid to think that he could ever get away from this. To ever become something else, something good and worthwhile. Eventually, fate would take its due from him. 

Adam took a gasping breath and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. He saw Ronan looking at him, concern clouding his blue eyes. It was the same look he gave him the first time they visited The Barns, when he reached for the mask. Fear and sadness muddled together. 

“Hey… what’s wrong?” The boy asked, his voice urgent, a hand taking Adam’s carefully, as though it might break unless he held it together.

“I…. I don’t know…” Adam managed to get out. 

\---

Adam had not allowed himself to cry for several years. At an early age, he realized that tears did nothing to assuage his father’s anger. After that, they slowly stopped being an option altogether. But now, he cried for Persephone, he cried for Gansey’s fate, he cried for the women in this movie and his own fucked-up childhood, and god help him he even cried for Kavinsky. The tears came like a dam bursting forth, shoulders shaking and lungs struggling to keep up. 

He had pulled his hand away from Ronan’s, needing both to keep wiping his face in vain, but Adam could still feel him close by, just within reach. For some time, they sat like this, one boy crying quietly into his sleeves and the other knowing this wasn’t his time to interfere. A headache approached from the horizon like a storm front, but every time Adam thought he might stop, things began to circle back on themselves, repeating like a mantra. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement, something black reaching for something white and -- _Pomf_.

He felt the pillow hit his face with a dull thud, and then -- and then nothing. For half a second, Adam felt nothing at all, not the shadow of his father, not the constant pull of Cabeswater, not the strain on his wallet and bank account. He blinked, eyes staring but not seeing. He wasn’t worthless, he wasn’t property, he was just _nothing_. He was vaccum and void, the space between stars.

For a few seconds, both boys stared at each other, Ronan still clutching the pillow, Adam blinking his reddened eyes. 

“Ronan… I need to ask you something.”

“What?”

“Could you do that again, please?” Adam said quietly, sniffling. 

Ronan did. 

\---

At some point without Adam being aware of it, his sobs turned into breathy laughter. He caught the pillow at the last second, flashing a grin before throwing it aside and tackling Ronan onto the mattress. They lay for a few minutes in a tangle of limbs, Adam giggling as he felt a kiss, and then another, trailing down his jaw and neck. 

“Sorry… about that.” He mumbled even as he tilted his head to give Ronan more room.

“Ain’t no sorry, Parrish.” 

**Author's Note:**

> So this was my first TRC fic! Proooobably should've read all the books before writing stuff, but Pynch is just too cute, I couldn't wait. Also I am horrible at titles and summaries, sorry.


End file.
